


At My Kitchen Sink

by FxckTrick



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Eating Disorder, Friendship, Loneliness, Msg, Other, Recovery, Self Harm, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, mental health, somg lyrics, the clique - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 15:06:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8290177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FxckTrick/pseuds/FxckTrick
Summary: the brunette longed for nothing but silence, to feel nothing and let it all end. Or the one where a suicidal Tyler faces his biggest demon yet, himself. By facing that demon he can finally find what he's been looking for a purpose.





	

**Author's Note:**

> !!!!TRIGGER WARNING!!!!
> 
> Suicide is the centre of this so please do not read it if that triggers you. 
> 
> Both self harm and eating disorders are mention in this as well so again please do not read it if you find it distressing

The young boy seemed so small, in the corner of his basement. With tears in his eyes he looks up, stares for a moment then looks back down at the objects surrounding him. Drops of blood start to trickle down his arm staining the sleeves of his favourite hoodie, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment his head twitches and a look of fear washes over his face. The cold and sorrowful basement is lit solely by a bare bulb that hung above the boys beloved piano. The piano sits in the centre of the room, ordinarily at this time it would be producing a solemn melody played by the lonely boy in the corner of the room but not tonight. The voices and delusions that haunted his mind had become unbearable tonight, they always did on Sunday's. From the moment he watched the sun set on Saturday the young boy was in a constant battle for his life until the sun rose once again. He pulls his knees up to his chest before running a hand over the objects sat in front of him, he cuts his finger on the edge of one of the blades. Wincing at the pain he clenches his fist and squeezes his eyes shut once again, he couldn't even do this right. 

He runs the thick rope between his hands, he twists and manipulates it. Tying and re-tying knots over and over until they're perfect, he lays it out slowly, making sure to straighten the top out. He breathes slowly, looks up stares, then looks back down again. He stands slowly and walks sullenly over to his beloved piano, ignoring the screams from voices he didn't recognise. Running his hand along the cold wood of his safe haven he walks around to the other side. He squeezes his eyes shut once again as his neck twitches, this time his hands twist and one rubs at his neck. His delicate face is visible now as he stands by the rooms dim light, his deep dark eyes are laced with sadness and exhaustion. His hollow face highlighting just how much weight he'd lost over the last few months, his vacant expression contrasting the chaos in his mind. He lets out a defeated sigh before stalking back to his corner, he slides down the wall and buries his head in his hands. He'd tried so hard, given it everything he had to keep going yet he was still stranded and fading slowly. No one could see it, no one had realised just how bad he had gotten honestly he preferred it that way, he didn't want people crying over him. He didn't want to hurt anyone, he just wanted to stop all of the pain, stop all of the hurting he'd rather feel nothing than all of this. 

He lifts the rope and holds it in his hands. Maybe he should say a prayer? Maybe write a note to explain, what was he suppose to say? Who was he suppose to write to? He stands once again, walks back over to his piano and climbs on top, he walks to the edge and throws the rope. He lands the shot first time, seems his basketball skills had come in handy it almost makes him want to smile. It takes him a while but eventually the ropes tided securely, he releases one last breath of defeat and exhaustion places the rope around his neck and steps off. He's ready for it to end, his breath gets caught in his throat things in his mind are finally going quiet but that's when it happens. A loud snap rings through the room, the brunette falls to the floor and lands with a thud. Gasping for breath he removes the rope from around his neck and throws it across the room with tears streaming down his face. Sitting back, he buries his head in his hands he obviously wasn't meant to die today, he rubs his eyes stands and starts to make his way upstairs. His mouth was unbelievably dry, his hands were still shaking, everyone in the house was asleep apart from him. He heads for the kitchen, runs the cold tap while he looks for a glass. He fills it half full takes a sip and places it down, he'd been given a second chance someone somewhere wanted him to keep going. He lifts the glass again, swirls the liquid around then takes other drink.

The boy wakes with a fright, disorientated and confused. "Ty are you okay? We've got to go back on in 5 minutes I thought you'd be ready by now" the brunette stares confused at Josh standing in front of him in a red suit. "Oh right yeah the show sorry" getting up off the sofa, he walks over to the mirror both of them were wearing red suits, must be a pretty fancy show? "Come on dude don't want to keep our friends waiting" Josh walks out of the room and Tyler follows closely behind him, staring at the black on his hands that he couldn't remember painting on. They walk along the long corridor which has arrows saying "stage" taped to the floor, once they reach the end the two of them stop frozen. "I can't believe how sick that first part was" Tyler nods still in shock as he looks up at the large red poster of the two of them with the words "Maddison Square Garden" written across the top of it. Still in disbelief the two of them run on Tyler sits down at his piano with the thousands of people screaming up at him, waiting expectantly to hear another song. There was only one song the boy could think of, the song he had wrote that night all those years ago.

I'm a goner, somebody catch my breath,  
I'm a goner, somebody catch my breath,  
I want to be known by you,  
I want to be known by you.

I'm a goner, somebody catch my breath,  
I'm a goner, somebody catch my breath,  
I want to be known by you,  
I want to be known by you.

Though I'm weak and beaten down,  
I'll slip away into this sound,  
The ghost of you is close to me,  
I'm inside-out, you're underneath.

I've got two faces, blurry's the one I'm not,  
I've got two faces, blurry's the one I'm not,  
I need your help to take him out,  
I need your help to take him out.

Though I'm weak and beaten down,  
I'll slip away into this sound,  
The ghost of you is close to me,  
I'm inside-out, you're underneath.

Though I'm weak and beaten down,  
I'll slip away into this sound,  
The ghost of you is close to me,  
I'm inside-out, you're underneath.

Don't let me be gone.  
Don't let me be gone.  
Don't let me be gone.  
Don't let me be gone.

Don't let me be.  
Don't let me be.

Ah, yeahhh 

I'm a goner, somebody catch my breath,  
I'm a goner, somebody catch my breath,  
I want to be known by you,  
I want to be known by you.

With his head hanging down, the crowd that had just sang every word with him begin to scream in admiration. Finally the once lonely and suicidal boy had found his place and had found his purpose. They were his purpose, his reason to continue so he could help them feel at home, to let them know that they're not as alone as they once believed. There was only one thing the young boy could think of, only one sentence he could string together "we did it."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank You for reading, this story is just a one shot because I'm so proud of the boy for what they achieved even if I'm a little late to say it. 
> 
> If you have any suggestions on how to improve or have any story suggestions let me know in the comments!!


End file.
